The Right Walk Home
by The Wuzzy
Summary: Midnight in Mystic Falls, and Damon is walking Elena home. But Elena is drunk, and Damon is leaving to go after Stefan and Klaus. Tensions run high as unspoken feelings are brought into the open... Oneshot alternative Season3 opening POVDamon R&R


_**This is set after the end of Season 2, as an idea of how I thought Season 3 could open.**_

_**It's taken me ages and ages to write, because I've been trying hard to get the characters as true to them selves as possible, and, above all, to capture Damon's voice. :D I will be thrilled if even a little of his snarky badassery has come through in my writing! **_

_**The title 'The Right Walk Home' is a line from a Carol Anne Duffy poem…it fits the story, and as far as I'm concerned, Damon is Elena's right walk home.**_

_**The reference to 'Mystic Fall's only social establishment' is a tribute to the fantastic Julie Kushner's hilarious recaps on Recapper's Anonymous. **_

_**Enjoy…and please review afterwards! :D :D**_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

It was early evening, and Damon paused at the entrance to the Mystic Grill to pull his ringing phone from his pocket.

It was Rick. He put the phone to his ear, turning away from the door.

"What."

"Hey, I can't make it tonight."

"What? Dammit, Rick, I'm standing _at _the door!"

"Sorry buddy, but I've got a whole bunch of papers that need grading - "

"Can you not leave the work for one night? You need to loosen up, bro." Honestly, Rick seriously needed to cool it on the work front.

Then it occurred to Damon exactly _why_ Rick had been letting his job absorb his life.

He felt a twinge of guilt, and brushed it aside. There hadn't been anything he could've done to save Jenna…and a couple of drinks would help take Rick's mind off things anyway.

Plus, Damon was bored.

"No, I can't." Rick sounded pretty hassled. Damon could see him in his minds eye, running his hand over his forehead. "These are due tomorrow."

"Jesus, just give them all B- or something, I don't care!" Damon rolled his eyes as he shunted to the side to let a man through the door to the Grill.

"I'll make it up to you…"

Damon snarled something under his breath.

There was a trace of amusement in Rick's voice when he replied. "Damon, my parents were definitely married. To _each other_. Look, I'm sorry about this…some other time, okay? How about Tuesday?"

Damon paused.

"Rick," he growled, "I'm skipping town tomorrow."

Rick was silent for a moment. Damon heard him sigh.

"Stefan." It wasn't a question so much as a statement.

"Mm-hmm." They'd been tracking them, and Damon was pretty sure he knew where they were. He felt his insides clench with anger. Klaus had Stefan. Screw that Klaus was _the_ Original, and a werewolf-vampire hybrid to boot, letting that pass wasn't an option.

The son-of-a-bitch was going _down. _

Or rather, he was going to get Stefan back, hopefully without getting his throat torn out by Klaus in the process.

"I don't know what the hell Squirrel-face was thinking - "

"He was saving your _life,_ Damon - "

"I don't give a damn he was saving my life, Rick," Damon lowered his voice dangerously. "He gave himself up, and I'm going to get…him…_back_."

"Damon, this is _Klaus_. He killed Jenna, he almost killed Elena…we know what he's capable of!"

"You know that's not going to stop me."

"God dammit Damon, I _know_ that's not going to stop you! This is your brother; I wouldn't _try_ to stop you. I'm _asking_ you to be careful."

Damon smirked at Rick's obvious concern. "You know me," he said, "I'm _always_ careful."

Rick ignored his last comment. "I'm also asking you if I can hitch a ride."

Damn. Damon hadn't thought of that.

He didn't reply.

"Let's face it, you're gonna need all the help you can get, and besides," there was an undercurrent of anger in Rick's voice, "you're not the only one with reason to want to take out Klaus."

Damon considered.

"Nuh-uh buddy, I'm counting on you to take care of Elena while I'm gone."

Rick cursed. "And does Elena _know_ about this little venture?"

Crap. Busted.

"You haven't told her." Rick sounded resigned.

Damon decided there wasn't much point denying it. "She'd freak out. She's not coming."

"She's not going to be happy about that."

"She's not coming."

"She's going to take this badly, Damon."

"Well, too bad for her, because, guess what…!" Damon feigned excitement, then dropped his tone suddenly, "…She _isn't_ coming!"

"Damon…it's her boyfriend. She has a right to want to come with you, and in all honesty, if she wants to go, there's not much I can do to stop her."

"Lock her in her bedroom, obviously," Damon snorted. Come on, that was pretty obvious. Rick really needed to start thinking outside the box.

"You know I can't do that. I'm not her legal guardian, and she's almost eighteen anyway…"

"Rick," Damon's tone was deadly, "I am _not_ going to let her come along and get herself killed. Do you understand me?"

"Damon, I get it. But Elena needs to hear it from you, okay? She trusts you. But she won't trust you if you don't explain why she can't leave with you. At least tell her tomorrow, before you go…when you say goodbye."

"Sure, sure, I'll tell her," said Damon breezily, "but _don't _think I'm changing my mind."

"So you _were_ planning on saying goodbye?" Damon realised Rick had been waiting for this, and now he was pouncing on it. "You weren't just gonna, I don't know, run off or something, without telling anyone where you were going…including me and Elena?"

Oops.

"Of course not," scoffed Damon, "why would I want to do _that?"_

"Damon, we need to talk about this - "

Damon raised an eyebrow. "We are talking."

"We need to talk _seriously - _"

"We are talking seriously. In fact, we've talked seriously loads, seriously. And shouldn't you be marking those papers?"

"Wait, Damon, - "

"Bye Rick!"

Damon hung up.

At that moment the door to the grill again swung open, and, to Damon's surprise, the three people he least expected (okay so not the _least…_) emerged. Or rather, Elena stumbled and almost fell out, supported by Vampire-Barbie and Witch-girl. What the hell were _they_ all doing here?

Then again, it was Mystic Fall's _only_ social establishment, as far as anyone was concerned.

"Elena! What are you doing here?"

"Hello-_o_, Damon," said Elena, and dissolved into mad giggles.

Damon raised an eyebrow.

"Girl's night out," explained Bonnie, "we were just leaving."

Damon ignored her. "Did you just say _'Hello-o, Damon'_?"

Elena snorted, seeming to find this hilarious. Her face was flushed, and she was grinning like a maniac. She looked far happier than he'd seen her since...well.

She looked, in fact, unnaturally merry. She was also totally unsteady on her feet, and was reeling all over the place.

"Elena…are you…drunk?"

"Maybe," she giggled, "maybe a tiny-itsy-bitsy little bit!" She gestured with her hands to emphasize just how big a 'little bit' was, and lost her balance, falling into Caroline, who squeaked.

"Elena, be careful!"

"We need to get you home," said Bonnie, ever practical.

"But it's so early!" Elena complained, staggering to her feet. "We were having so much _fun!_"

Damon knew he should be annoyed, but the situation was far too funny to ignore. Elena, drunk, and acting it too? Now _that_ was something he hadn't seen before, and it looked like this was going to be pretty amusing.

Yet a (very small) part of him was also fighting the irritating urge to get all over-protective and disapproving.

He settled for fixing Caroline and Bonnie with his best Damon-is-pissed-off glare.

"How _exactly_ did you let this happen?"

"I'm sorry," Caroline wailed, "someone spiked her drink!"

"No-body spiked my drink," said Elena almost unintelligibly, "I'm not drunk, just a little bit tipsy…I only had a couple of shots shots…I can totally handle it."

Damon felt the corners of his mouth twitch. What a lightweight. "Go on. You two get home." He jerked his head at Elena. "I'll take care of her."

"Seriously? That'd be such a big help." Caroline looked intensely relieved. Bonnie snorted.

"But I don't want to go home," cried Elena. Everyone ignored her.

Bonnie put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him. "_Promise_ you'll take good care of her? And you _know_ what I mean, Damon."

"Sure." Damon gave her his most charming smile, and she seemed to relax.

He figured he was finally growing on her. Ha.

These hopeful musings were quashed as Bonnie gave him her trademark withering stare.

"I'm serious, Damon." Her dark eyes bored into him. "I'll be phoning to check she's home safe, and if you do anything…_stupid_…I _will_ find out."

"Of course I'll take good care of her!" Damon spluttered indignantly.

"I know," Bonnie smirked, and Damon realised he'd been had. "You always jump at a chance to take care of _Elena._"

She gave him the smile of smug satisfaction that Damon knew all too well…and was learning to hate. Desperately, he fished for a comeback, and came up with nothing, _again_.

Damn! What _was_ it about the witch that she always managed to get one over him?

Realising that she'd won yet again, Bonnie gave him a brilliant flash of teeth. Damon fumed.

He continued to fume as the girls said their goodbyes to the slightly sulky Elena.

"Bye, Damon," Caroline called over her shoulder, with a little wave, blonde curls bouncing as she and Bonnie walked off to where they'd parked their cars. Following them with his gaze as they passed under the orange glow of a street lamp and into darkness, Damon briefly wondered when he'd be seeing them again.

Maybe, while he was gone, Bonnie would die…or something. Then he'd never see her again, and hey, wouldn't that be fun…better late than never!

Annoying, high-pitched control-freak that _Caroline_ was, however…hell, he was actually going to miss the Vampire-Barbie.

Maybe. A little.

(Not really.)

He snorted at his own weakness.

He heard someone huff behind him, and he remembered who he was actually going to _miss_.

It was going to kill him, metaphorically... but what the hell. He'd died before.

He'd gotten over it.

He turned back to Elena, pushing all thoughts of leaving from his mind. Right now, he had to get the drunk back home.

He grinned wryly at her expression.

She was scowling at him, sporting a pout he'd seen oh-so-many times on Katherine. The difference was, on Katherine it was childish and ridiculous. On Elena, it made her look cute.

As ever.

"Since when have _you_ been the one to kill people's fun, Damon?" Her words were slurred.

"Since _you_ decided to go out and get completely wasted with no way of getting home," replied Damon, steering her away from the doorway.

"It's not even late!" she wailed.

"And yet, you're already totally pissed. Fortunately, here I am to save the day. Again. And _you're_ supposed to be the sensible, mature one."

Elena threw her head back and moaned in exasperation. "You're chaperoning me? Seriously? I'm practically eighteen now, I can take care of myself."

"Sure, sure." Damon narrowed his eyes, and held out an elbow. "Shall we?"

Elena threw him a look of pure poison, and linked her arm with his. She immediately leaned in to him, heavily, and they set off along the sidewalk…in what was not an entirely straight line.

Of course, he could just pick her up and carry her back the whole way at super-speed. But where would be the fun in that?

Damon heard Elena muttering something about kill-joys and ass-holes. He pretended not to hear.

"I want to go back and finish the game of snooker I was playing"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"You're no fun," Elena sulked.

"Actually," said Damon with a smirk, "I'm the most fun you'll ever have..."

She'd _so_ been asking for that.

To his alarm, Elena burst into gales of hysterical laughter, almost falling off his arm over the curb. "That - was - so- _funny_!" she gasped.

Okay, _this _was weird. Elena never appreciated his sense of humour. Never ever-ever.

She must be even more out of it than he had thought.

"Remember that one time when you kidnapped me and took me to Kansas?" Elena managed in between her heaving chortles.

"That wasn't kidnap, I was saving your ass, and…kidnapping you…but no, it wasn't kidnap, was a surprise road trip!"

Elena didn't seem to hear him. "And then you said that vampires couldn't procreate," here she did an alarmingly accurate impersonation of Damon, "_'but we like to try'_? And you kept doing that flirty eye thing, like this?" She scrunched up her eyebrows at him and pulled a face, then exploded into giggles again.

"My 'eye-thing' does _not _look like that- whoa, whoa!" said Damon, grabbing her as she laughed so hard she fell off the sidewalk. He continued to hold her steady for a good thirty seconds, feeling the vibration of her laughter through his hands. Eventually, she calmed down, and wiped the tears from her eyes with a sigh, leaning into him again.

He stood for a moment, with his arms around her. Then he pulled himself together, and turned to keep walking.

They'd barely gone another ten metres when suddenly, she gave another giggle.

"What?" said Damon, feigning exasperation. "Is there something actually funny this time, or is this just you being drunk again?"

Elena grinned at him. "Nothing."

"Ok-_ay _then."

"I wanna dance."

"Party's over, Elena."

"Dance with me, Damon."

"What?"

"Damon…" Elena wheedled, "I want to dance! And if you don't let me dance with you, I'll go and…dance over there…with that lamppost."

Damon looked at her.

He considered the options. Attractive as the idea of Elena pole-dancing at midnight might be…she'd never forgive him later if he let her do it.

Of course _he'd_ danced with her before. Lots. Okay, a few times, but never in the middle of the street at night while one of them was off their head.

Obviously.

She was wearing a sly smile, lips parted. Her normally perfectly straight brown hair was slightly mussed, and he wasn't going to lie, she looked pretty hot. More hot than usual.

Crap.

Well, what the hell. Someone had to amuse her.

"Okay," he said. "But _don't_ tread on my toes."

She beamed at him, and grabbed his arms, putting one on her waist and another on her shoulder. "Now watch out, Damon," she said, "I can pull some serious _moves."_

"What are you on? You learnt them all off me! Civil war era, remember? _I_ can waltz like you've never _seen_."

"No, not that kind of dancing," said Elena. "That's all boring and slow!"

Yeah right. She'd happily slow danced with Damon before...like he was ever going to forget. Okay, so that had only been because Stefan was having some sort of relapse, and running around chowing down on pageant girls...but still.

Elena yanked his hands off of her and into the air, and began to pull them back and forth, swinging her hips.

"This is what I meant!" she laughed. And just like that she was spinning and falling around as though the ground was rocking beneath her.

"Come on Damon, let's see these moves then!"

He began to join in, just to amuse her (fine then, unable to help himself), and a minute later, he was enjoying it.

She whooped and spun under his arm, then dragged him around in a circle, hair flying, flashing him a bright, beautiful grin. Damon couldn't help breaking a smile back; it was sort of a reflex at seeing _her_ smile.

He hadn't seen her so carefree in months. Who cared that they were on the street in the middle of town and there was no music?

Elena leapt and twirled around him, shimmying back and forth like some sort of whirling dervish, and Damon totally forgot that it was midnight and he was supposed to be taking her home. Both of them were laughing, and Damon briefly figured that any passers by would think they were completely stoned.

He didn't give a crap.

Elena's laugh was like ripples in clear water and her eyes sparkled. Damon didn't, couldn't look away. And it didn't look like they were stopping anytime soon.

Elena span into him a little too fast, and knocked the wind out of herself, breaking the rhythm of their movement.

She clung onto him with both hands, standing right against his chest, bodies just touching.

He could feel her heart beat through her clothes and see the pulse in her flushed neck; she was breathing hard. Her usually oh-so-straight hair was tangled, falling into her face. She was no longer laughing. She was gazing at him, and her eyes flashed in the glow of a nearby streetlamp.

She was standing so close he could feel her warm breath on his face.

This was not good.

In fact this was fantastic, no, this was bad.

Very bad.

He needed to move.

Damon did not move. He didn't particularly want to

Maybe she'd sober up and stop looking at him like that?

Slowly, he lifted his hands and gently brushed a few strands of hair from her face. They didn't linger there. An entirely harmless, platonic gesture.

Elena took his hands in hers, and leant forward until he could feel her lips brushing his ear.

No. Sober she was not.

"Maybe you were wondering," she whispered, warm breath tickling his ear, "why I kissed you."

Damon felt his insides clench. This was not happening. Not now, when she was drunk, and he was leaving in the morning...

"That time when you were dying. Remember?"

Oh, _that!_ The only single occasion where Elena had ever, voluntarily, locked lips with him of her own free will, he'd entirely forgotten about _that_.I mean, it wasn't like it was a big deal or anything.

"Never crossed my mind."

His voice was expressionless.

He could feel her mouth curve into a smile as she rested her face against his hair.

"Oh, somehow I don't believe that," said Elena with a low chuckle.

Jesus. She really needed to _not_ do that.

Damon stepped back, putting a wall of air between them.

"Oh really? Because I do. And you're drunk, so we're not going to have this conversation." He pulled away so she was no longer touching him, and turned so he could no longer see her.

It helped slightly.

"Don't lie to me, Damon."

Damon ignored her. "We're going home, _now_."

"Damon."

Something in his voice compelled him to turn around. There she stood, hair burnished gold in the lamp light. He didn't recognise the look on her face.

She closed the gap between them and her eyes raked his, searching for something.

She leaned forward, lifting her hands to his shoulders, and brought her mouth to his.

Damon angled his face away, and her lips touched his cheek.

It was the alcohol; he could smell it on her breath, and it made her words hollow and her actions meaningless.

He didn't want this.

"Time to get home," he said softly.

Elena gave an almost imperceptible nod, accepting the rejection.

They broke apart, she turned away, eyes blank and unreadable.

"You're leaving," she said dully.

What?

"You're leaving," she repeated, as though he'd spoken aloud, "Don't even bother denying it, Damon. I know. I'm not stupid." She shook her head in incomprehension. "Why would you lie to me like that?"

"I never lied."

"You _lied,_ Damon."

"Then don't lie to me, Elena."

"What?"

Damon gave a harsh laugh. "Oh yes, Elena, you lie."

Elena stared at him, incredulous. "Don't change this to be about me!"

"This _is_ about you."

"This is about _you_, and you going against everything you promised!"

"I didn't promise anything."

Elena stepped back, face ridden with anger and betrayal. "I thought we were supposed to be friends; I thought we were in this together, and now I find you're tracking him behind my back, going off on your own?"

How did she know all this?

"This is _Stefan_, Damon! You thought you could just leave me behind when I could be your biggest chance of getting him back?" Her eyes were wild and bloodshot, but her voice was sharp, clear and cutting. "You've been hiding it all this time – well you can't hide it from me. Not any more! Do you have any _idea_ how much saving him means to me, how much _he_ means to me?" she yelled.

Damon lunged towards her and she flinched. _Good._

"Don't you _ever_ make the mistake of thinking I don't care about him too," he snarled.

Elena swallowed. Her eyes were flat with resentment."I didn't, Damon," she hissed, "I made the mistake of thinking you cared about _me_."

Damon stared at her and Elena's eyes slowly widened.

"Oh god," she whispered.

Confusion. Then denial. Finally, burning rage and _pain_. Damon pulled down a shutter in his mind.

He gave her a cold smile.

"Looks like the alcohol's finally started wearing off, then. You can walk yourself home. Goodnight, Elena."

The words had never sounded so final. Her name had never tasted this bitter.

He was leaving, right now.

"I'm so sorry," he heard Elena whisper. "This is my fault."

He could barely hear her through the pounding roar in his ears.

He was leaving tomorrow.

Good_bye_, Elena.

"I'm sorry, Damon," said Elena from behind him, her small voice carrying in the cool night air. "I'm so sorry." Her voice broke on the last words, and damn that stupid vampire hearing, he could tell that she was crying now, even though she was trying to hide it.

This would be his last memory of her for God knew how long - standing alone and un-forgiven, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Crap.

He stopped and turned back, stepping slowly back over the divide between the black and light and into the pool of the streetlamp's glow.

Elena looked up, startled.

"No," he said flatly, "I'm sorry." He found her eyes with his, willing her to believe he meant it, because he did. "You're right. I should have told you."

Elena nodded, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I want to come with you," she said.

Great, she had that determined look on her face. He _really_ didn't want another fight right now.

"We're not discussing this."

Elena's eyes narrowed. "We're discussing this now, Damon."

"No we aren't. The situation in non-negotiable."

"It _is_ negotiable, and if you go to find Stefan, I'm coming with you!" She was starting to get worked up again, which was _not_ a good thing. "From now on, you tell me _everything!_"

"Elena, you aren't coming. And I'm not telling you anything."

"Damon, you aren't listening to me!"

Damon stepped forward and placed his finger on her lips. "No, Elena, you listen to _me._ You…are…not…coming."

Elena yanked away his finger, almost stamping her foot with frustration and anger. "For god's sake Damon, give me _one_ good reason to take that pile of _stupid_ _bull!_"

"Calm down right now."

"I will _not_ calm down until you give me a _reason!" _Elena's voice was almost a shriek.

"Well, I'm not giving you a reason, Elena," he snarled. "Get used to it!"

Elena's hand shot through the air, but Damon caught her by the wrist before she'd got anyway near his face. He'd been expecting it: what with her being completely hammered and completely furious, it was only a matter of time.

She yanked at his arm, face screwed up in fury. "Let – me – _go_!"

"Not until you stop trying to hit me, and calm down."

"Give me a reason!"

"No." He was finding it difficult to act like he was still calm himself right now. Elena succeeded in yanking her wrist from his grip.

"_Give me a reason_!" she screamed.

"I don't want to see you getting _killed_, Elena!" Damon shouted.

She stared at him. Elena stared back.

Her face suddenly slumped, all anger vanished.

"I know you care," she sighed, "but I care too. And that's not making me try to stop you."

Damon didn't have a reply for that one… but it turned out that he didn't need one either. At that moment a look of horror passed over Elena's face, and she ran to the edge of the sidewalk, where she was violently sick over the curb.

Damon pulled her long hair back, and held her as she continued to retch. After a while she stopped retching, but her shoulders continued to heave, body racked with silent sobs.

Eventually the sobs subsided, and her breathing became less ragged. She moved out of his arms and turned to face him. Tears were pouring silently down her cheeks. Damon frowned, reached up to wipe them away, but she knocked his hands back. "Why?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

Damon didn't have to ask to know what she meant.

"He made a choice. He gave himself up…for me."

_The stupid douche-bag._

Elena nodded slowly, and swallowed.

"I want to go home," she whispered.

Damon lifted her up into his arms.

Damon was through the door before it was even halfway open.

"What the..."

The look on Rick's face at what Damon was carrying would have been priceless, if Damon had noticed it. As it was, he was already climbing the stairs with his precious cargo.

"Drunk," he explained, without removing his gaze from the girl in his arms. "Someone spiked her drink...don't worry, I'm handling it."

Elena moaned slightly as if to back him up, and shifted, nuzzling into his chest.

"Uh huh..." said Alaric warily, and then glanced from Damon up to the landing.

"What?" growled Damon.

"Come on, Damon. You're gonna put her to bed?"

Damon glared at him. "No, Alaric, I'm going to kidnap her, strip her naked, and take advantage of her in her drunken stupor," he deadpanned.

"Just checking." said Rick. "I'll bring her up a glass of water."

Damon nodded gruffly, and continued up the stairs. Elena was ridiculously small and light in his arms; then again, he was unnaturally strong, what with being un-dead and all.

He shunted her bedroom door open with his foot and glanced around at the familiar cream and beige furnishings. He lowered Elena carefully onto the bed; her hair a splash of dark over the pillow. The only dark in the room, actually, everything was stupid colours of pale in here.

"Wake up, Elena."

Elena groaned, and blearily opened her eyes. She sat up and kneaded her face with her hands, and her gaze settled on Damon.

"Here," Damon threw her a bundle of pyjamas he'd pulled from her chest-of-drawers. She caught them limply.

Elena not telling him off for going through her clothes, now _that_ was a first.

"Think you can stand up?" Damon held out a hand, which she took, and he pulled her up. She still swung on her feet, and put a hand to her head.

"God, I'm going to have such a bad day tomorrow," she groaned.

Damon chuckled. "I'll be sure to get Jeremy to wake you up _extra _early."

"Not funny," retorted Elena.

"I'm still coming with you," she added, as she walked over to the ensuite bathroom.

Well, damn. Damon had hoped she might have forgotten about that. He rolled his eyes – he couldn't be bothered to even _try_ and argue any more.

She went in and locked the door, and Damon wandered around idly, trying to ignore the bedtime-routine noises issuing from the bathroom…and the mental images of Elena undressing which accompanied them.

He reached out a finger to brush the photo of her and Stefan stuck into her mirror. The two of them were beaming and looked (he had to admit,) pretty adorable, faces practically _radiating_ love and happiness.

Well _that_ figured.

Hey, he hadn't seen that one before… There was a photo of him in there too, clearly caught off guard in the middle of a game of pool. Damon grinned. He couldn't even remember when she had taken it.

He briefly considered stealing it. But what would be the point in that? He'd be coming back soon enough. Hopefully intact.

Hopefully with Stefan.

He eventually settled for sitting on her bed and grabbed the teddy she always kept there, despite the fact it was falling apart. Gift from her adoptive parents, he supposed, examining it with interest. He occupied himself by trying to think of a suitable name for it. Okay, so only because after all the babysitting he'd been doing he didn't want to ruin the mood by rifling through her underwear drawer.

The door to the bathroom creaked open and Elena emerged, hairbrush in hand. He respectfully replaced Dr. Horatio McFluffikins, then jumped off the bed, and gave her a hand back over.

"Sorry about this, Damon," she said, "I was an idiot for having all that to drink. And I guess you've never seen me lose it like that before." She gave a slightly choked laugh. "I don't often cry."

"I know," said Damon, and smiled briefly. It _had_ been pretty disconcerting…Elena was normally a winner at suppressing her emotions.

Elena smiled weakly back. It was small, and sad, but it was a smile.

"And thank you," she continued, and he knew she meant a lot more than just those two words. He nodded, and Elena climbed into bed, yawning hugely. He pulled the covers up over her as she closed her eyes. Leaning forward, he smoothed her hair back from her forehead.

"Goodnight, Elena." Her eyelids fluttered slightly, and he straightened up.

"I am coming with you, you know," she murmured, eyes already shut. Damon padded over to the window.

"I was going to say before why I kissed you," she whispered, so quietly it could just have been a breath of air.

He froze.

"I kissed you because I love you."

She knew he was leaving. He knew she was drunk.

But just this once.

He walked back over to the bed, and leaned forward over her prone figure. He kissed her, softly, on the mouth. She raised a hand, reaching out, and he clasped it, their fingers entwining. Elena's lips gave under his and she lifted her face slightly, leaning towards him.

He pulled away.

"Goodbye, Elena," he whispered.

She opened her eyes, but she was already clutching at empty air.

Rick pushed open the door to Elena's bedroom, glass of water in hand. Elena lay asleep, chest rising and falling slowly with her peaceful breathing. Otherwise, the room was empty. Damon appeared to have left by his usual contrary method - the window was flung upon, and a cool breeze ruffled the curtains.

Rick walked over to the window. As he closed it, he looked outside into the darkness, through the trees. He thought his eyes caught a glimpse of movement, but then again, it could just have been his imagination.

_Good luck, buddy._

Rick pulled the window to, shutting out the night.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

_**Well, that's it! Hoped you enjoyed it. And now that you've read it, review it! :D**_


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